


Love Me Like There's No Tomorrow

by NyghtingaleDemon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Innocent (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), First Time, Fluff and Smut, I Tried, M/M, My First Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Aziraphale (Good Omens), Praise Kink, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 10:44:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21053096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyghtingaleDemon/pseuds/NyghtingaleDemon
Summary: Just in case the body swap doesn't work, Aziraphale takes advantage of the time they have.





	Love Me Like There's No Tomorrow

The bus ride back from Tadfield had been quiet, both of them mulling over Agnes’ last prophecy. They had quickly agreed that their respective Head Offices would be coming after them sooner rather than later. Now it was a question of how to survive whatever they were going to do to them.

“I have an idea,” Aziraphale muttered to Crowley as they arrived at the demon’s flat. “We may get out of this yet, if we can just have a little time to plan.”

Crowley nodded, leading the way up the stairs. “My place is well-protected against your lot.” He waved the door open and turned to see Aziraphale hesitating at the threshold. “Not you, Angel, you’re fine. Come on in.”

Aziraphale didn’t dwell on the fact that Crowley’s wards included an exception for him. After all, he’d kept a space for Crowley in his wards at the bookshop as well. Only he’d never expected to go to Crowley’s flat….

He shook the thoughts from his head as he closed the door behind him. There wasn’t time for that until they could work out a way out of this.

“As for the other side – ” the angel snapped his fingers, sanctifying the flat.

“Gaaahh!” Crowley shrieked as the blessing sizzled over his skin. “Really, Angel?? In my own home?”

“Do you want Downstairs overhearing us?” Aziraphale asked reasonably.

The demon grumbled, chastened. “Point taken.”

“I’ll remove it in the morning.”

Crowley brushed aside the notion that he was, in effect, the angel’s prisoner for the night. It sent his mind down paths he had no time to follow. Maybe once they were out of this mess…if they got out of it….

~~~

Two hours and a bottle of Gewurtztraminer later, the two had talked their situation round and round and finally arrived at a plan. It was just mad enough that neither side would see it coming – Hell because they had no imagination and Heaven because they couldn’t see past their own self-righteousness – and it was something only Crowley and Aziraphale could pull off.

Side by side on the very uncomfortable sofa, they fell into a momentary lull.

“D’you really think this’ll work?” asked Crowley for the seventh time.

“If it doesn’t, nothing will,” Aziraphale answered vaguely. He was staring at a spot on the floor just past the edge of the coffee table.

Crowley sighed, resigned. “In that case, might as well open another bottle. Nothing else to do.” He moved to stand, but Aziraphale stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“That’s not quite true.”

Crowley turned to face him, startled by the intensity of his grip. “I’m listening.”

Aziraphale took a steadying breath and searched for Crowley’s eyes behind his dark lenses. “If this doesn’t work – if we’re to be destroyed tomorrow – ” he licked his lips – “there’s something I must – ”

He abandoned words and lunged forward to press his mouth against Crowley’s. A shocked moment later, the demon’s lips softened and reciprocated, even parting for the angel’s insistent tongue. Aziraphale pressed further still, pinning Crowley against the arm of the sofa before finally breaking the kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that since Eden,” Aziraphale breathed, hovering over him.

Crowley, his lips still parted, gave the barest shake of his head. “Angel,” he whispered. “I don’t understand…” What happened to _You go too fast for me, Crowley_?

“If we survive this, I’ll explain,” the angel promised. “Tonight, just let me love you.”

Time might well have stopped again. The world went utterly still, all the air vanished from the room, and silence pressed in on them. Slowly, Crowley removed his sunglasses and tossed them on the table. He lifted his golden eyes to meet Aziraphale’s smoldering blue gaze.

“Sssay that again.”

“Let me love you.”

Crowley surged upward to capture the angel’s mouth again, not needing to be told a third time. Six millennia’s tension broke in an instant as he clasped Aziraphale to him just as he’d longed to do on the Wall of the Garden so long ago. He pushed the angel back into the sofa, devouring his soft, sweet mouth.

Aziraphale let himself be overpowered just long enough to get Crowley’s jacket off. Then the demon found himself flat on his back with his angel trailing kisses and the occasional nibble down his neck.

“Yes, Angel,” he sighed, grasping at Aziraphale’s neck and shoulders while his mouth kissed and nipped at an ear, a curl, anything he could reach.

Aziraphale straddled Crowley’s narrow hips and smoothed his hands down the front of his black silken shirt. It was lovely, but not what he wanted – needed – to touch. He grabbed two handfuls of fabric and pulled viciously. Buttons flew in all directions. Crowley gasped and froze, wide-eyed.

“Sorry,” Aziraphale laughed softly, clearly not sorry at all, as he bared the rest of Crowley’s torso with a wave. “I couldn’t wait.” He splayed his hands against the bare skin, reverently tracing ribs, ghosting lightly over nipples, and grazing nails through the patch of auburn hair. “Oh, you are _marvelous_, my dear,” he murmured, his voice brimming with desire.

Crowley hissed and pulled him down for another kiss, only to whimper gracelessly when the angel pulled away with a nip of his lower lip. “Tease,” he growled.

Aziraphale chuckled darkly and ducked his head. Crowley groaned and squirmed as the angel’s tongue swirled circles around a nipple. It wasn’t fair – with Aziraphale still fully clothed, he couldn’t even retaliate. He fisted a hand in the angel’s curls and quietly snapped the fingers of the other hand.

Reality rippled, and suddenly they were in Crowley’s spacious bed, both fully nude. Aziraphale looked up and arched an eyebrow at the smirking demon beneath him.

“I couldn’t wait,” Crowley drawled.

Arizaphale sat up and Crowley’s smirk died on his face. Aziraphale’s body was captivating, the pale, smooth flesh just as he’d always imagined. His hands moved on their own to memorize the lines and textures of him: climbing up the angel’s arms, sweeping across his shoulders, down his chest, along the gentle swell of his belly, to settle on his plump hips. It was the first time in millennia that Crowley had worshipped anything.

“Like what you see?” No angel should have been able to sound that wanton.

He pulled his eyes back to Aziraphale’s and nodded mutely. The angel took hold of his wrists and pressed them into the mattress above his head. Crowley was struck with the realization of how truly vulnerable he was before this being who could easily destroy him. Yet Aziraphale only kissed him – tenderly at first, hands cupping his jaw, then deeper and more demanding as the friction between their bodies intensified.

Crowley did his best to keep his hands above his head – he could take a hint, after all – but when Aziraphale rolled his hips against him, he gasped and clutched tight to the angel. “Yes, my sweet,” came the ghost of a whisper against Crowley’s ear. He choked on his breath. An angelic hand caressed him from shoulder to hip and hooked a thumb into the crease of his thigh.

Aziraphale couldn’t get enough of his demon. How often he had dreamed of just this moment: skin on skin, Crowley held tight against him pressing pleading kisses onto his flesh. He wanted to touch, kiss, lick Crowley absolutely everywhere, wanted to possess him completely. Burying a hand in red hair, he wrenched the demon’s head back and kissed him fiercely. If this was their last night on Earth, he would show him everything he should have since the Beginning! He ground his hips against the demon and set about kissing his way down his body. 

“Angel – aah – fuck – ” Crowley dug his nails into his angel’s shoulders, writhing in delicious torment with every touch of lips or hands. He nearly screamed when the angel bit his inner thigh. “_Aziraphale!_”

Aziraphale hummed against him. “That’s right, love.” His tongue traced the demon’s hip bone. “Cry out for me.” He hovered above Crowley’s cock. “Let me hear you.”

His words shot sparks through Crowley – who knew the angel could talk like that! He bucked his hips up, but Aziraphale held him down with bruising force. Long demonic fingers wound into the angel’s hair and turned his face up to see Crowley staring at him, slack-jawed, pupils blown wide, his chest heaving.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, Angel.” It wasn’t poetry, but if his angel wanted to hear, he would damn well find something to say.

It seemed to work. Aziraphale’s eyes blazed and he made a sound between a sigh and a growl before wrapping his lips around the head of Crowley’s cock. The demon threw his head back with a medley of curses. His left hand scrabbled at his hip until Aziraphale caught it and held him fast by the wrist. Crowley held on for dear life, sure that if he let go, he would fly apart as Aziraphale’s ministrations drew a series of mewling, shuddering cries from him.

The angel worked him slowly and with purpose, the same way he savored a delicious dish. Truth be told, he’d craved this taste since the beginning of time, and he was perfectly happy for Crowley to be his last meal if it came to that. Between the taste of Crowley thick and salty on his tongue and all the delectable sounds his demon was making, Aziraphale could have kept this up for hours, even days.

Crowley, however, was quickly coming apart. His head thrashed while he kept a death grip on Aziraphale’s wrist. He’d lost all hope of coherence, only managing fractured variations of “Angel – please – yes – ”. At last, he was certain he could stand no more; he tugged on the angel’s hair until Aziraphale released his cock and placed a chaste kiss on the tip.

“Yes, love?” Aziraphale licked his swollen lips. “Something you want?” Crowley stared in awe. He’d never seen his angel so…_debauched_. Flushed down to his chest, with sweat-darkened blonde curls, his mouth red and wet and open, his voice ragged and gravelly – he was irresistible. Crowley pulled him up into an embrace.

“You,” was all Crowley managed. “Want you.”

He kissed his angel deeply, tasting shadows of himself on Aziraphale’s tongue. Their hands were still joined, only now their fingers laced together, and their other arms wrapped tight around each other.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned, working his kisses along the demon’s jaw. “So beautiful, so perfect.”

Crowley buried his face in the angel’s neck, lashing his tongue across the pulse hammering under his skin. “You’re perfect, Angel.” He caressed the length of Aziraphale’s back, dragging nails over the place where his wings lay hidden just outside this reality. The angel writhed against him, groaning softly. “You’re exquisite, magnificent – hnnngk – ”. Crowley was cut off by Aziraphale sucking a mark onto the flesh between his neck and shoulder. When he released him, Crowley immediately lost himself in those blue eyes again. He needed…oh, how he _needed_.

“Take me, Angel.”

Aziraphale held Crowley’s gaze as he slowly shifted himself on top of him.

“Say that again.”

“Take me, Angel. Please.”

Aziraphale kissed his demon again, pouring six thousand years of love and longing into it. A quick miracle slicked his fingers and he gently pushed into Crowley.

“Aziraphale, my Angel…” the demon sighed against Aziraphale’s cheek, still holding tight to him. His right hand ran into the angel’s soft curls again, keeping as much contact as he could. “You’re amazing, Angel – so good – so sweet – ohhh – ” Crowley’s words trailed away into insensible moans as Aziraphale worked him open.

“You sound so beautiful,” the angel murmured, “I love hearing your voice. I always have.” Crowley tingled all over at the praise and pushed his hips down onto Aziraphale’s fingers urgently. “Impatient, are we, dearest?” the angel teased.

Crowley bit down on Aziraphale’s shoulder in response. He gasped and Crowley took the opportunity to take his mouth once more. Myriad muffled noises slipped between their lips, each more desperate than the last, until Aziraphale withdrew his fingers. Crowley clung to him, trembling at what was to come. A squeeze of their still-clasped hands, another slick miracle, and Aziraphale’s thick cock slid slowly into Crowley.

Foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, the pair breathed against each other until Aziraphale was sunk deep in Crowley’s heat. Crowley arched up against the angel in slow motion, his face stretched in a silent scream of overwhelming sensation. Aziraphale planted open-mouthed kisses along the line of his neck, giving him time to adjust.

And then he moved.

The angel set up a slow, languid rhythm that tore helpless sobs from Crowley’s throat with each thrust. “My beautiful Crowley, my precious demon,” he whispered against Crowley’s skin. “You feel divine!”

Crowley turned his face away from Aziraphale’s fawning, even as it made things clench low in his belly. On cue, Aziraphale quickened his pace. His hand landed on Crowley’s throat, forcing his face back to him.

“No, love, look at me,” he commanded. The demon’s eyes snapped open and he was caught in that blue fire once more. “That’s it, darling. I want to see those stunning eyes.”

Aziraphale’s words thrilled Crowley to the core - the power and heat in his voice set the demon buzzing. When the angel’s hand closed around his cock, Crowley began to unravel. Straining to keep his eyes open, he panted his angel’s name over and over through broken breaths. Aziraphale’s eyes flared possessively.

“Mine.” It was more than a whisper, less than a growl, and made Crowley’s spine arch off the bed. “My lovely, my cherished – ” the angel’s breath caught in his chest and the words wouldn’t come.

Crowley could read it all in his eyes, but he needed to hear it. He snaked his hand around the back of Aziraphale’s neck and held on tight. “Yours,” he affirmed, six thousand years of unspoken promises loading down the single word. “Always yours, Angel.”

His words had the desired effect and more besides. Aziraphale abandoned restraint, doubling his pace and force, and claiming Crowley relentlessly. “My glorious demon – my love – my own - my beloved!”

Crowley felt himself teetering on the brink. “Love you,” he moaned desperately. “Love you!” He threw his head back and howled his angel’s name as his orgasm ripped through him. Moments later, Aziraphale followed him over the edge with a harsh cry of his own.

They lay together for what might have been moments or eternity, shaking in each other’s arms, before Aziraphale moved to lie beside his love. He tenderly wiped the tears from Crowley’s cheeks; Crowley did the same for him. At long last, Crowley let go of Aziraphale’s hand and wrapped himself around the angel as if he were in serpent form.

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his temple. “I love you so, my dearest. It shouldn’t have taken the end of the world for me to show you.”

Crowley, who was half-convinced he’d seen Heaven again, tightened his embrace. “ ‘M just glad you did, Angel,” he murmured. “Worth every moment I waited.”

“Thank you for being so patient with me.” Aziraphale’s hand found its way into Crowley’s hair again.

“Love you, Angel.” Crowley was already on the edge of sleep. His words came out in a petulant slur. “Never let ‘em hurt you. _My_ angel…”

“Yes, darling, all yours,” Aziraphale smiled at his sleeping demon before his face fell deadly serious. “And nothing’s going to harm you. They won’t dare come near you when I’m done.”

~~~~~

Sunday lunch at the Ritz was delightful, as always. Crowley even allowed Aziraphale to persuade him to take a bite from his fork here and there. They toasted the World, and each other, and the Ineffable Plan (which they now assumed included them). Lingering over their coffee, Crowley changed the subject.

“So, Angel,” he drawled, “You promised me an explanation.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink. “Not here, there isn’t time,” he muttered.

Crowley’s eyebrows rose above his sunglasses. “We have all the time in the world, Angel.” One side of his mouth crooked in a smile. “Back to yours, then?”

Aziraphale beamed. “That will be fine.”

Crowley stood and helped the angel from his chair, and together they made their way out to where the Bentley stood waiting.

“It all started that day on the Wall,” Aziraphale began. “I had no idea demons could be so gorgeous. And those exquisite wings!”

Crowley opened the door for his angel but stopped him climbing in. “You were dazzling! More beautiful than all of Heaven.” He kissed Aziraphale soundly. “Suppose you’d pounced on me right there on the Wall like you did last night?” he teased.

Aziraphale shook his head. “I’m afraid you hadn’t been enough of a bad influence on me yet. You would have had to pounce on me.” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Don’t think I didn’t consider it!” Crowley’s swagger faded as he took Aziraphale’s face in his hands. “Don’t make me wait for you again, Angel,” he whispered.

“Never again,” Aziraphale assured him. “But do get in the car, so I can tell you the rest.”

“There’s more?”

“So much more!”

With that, Aziraphale planted a quick kiss on the corner of Crowley’s mouth, slipped under his arm, and settled himself in the car. Crowley slid behind the wheel.

It had been quite the week. Lost the Antichrist, found him again, lost Aziraphale, miraculously got him back, lost the Bentley, thank Somebody got her back, saved creation, saved themselves, and now… now he had everything he’d ever wanted, sitting next to him, holding his hand as they drove home.

Aziraphale, meanwhile, said a silent prayer of thanks. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he wasn’t banking on having a tomorrow. Now he had all the tomorrows he could want, and the only being he’d ever wanted to share them with. Anything could happen.

**Author's Note:**

> Song rehab for the author.  
Also, I kinda suck at writing sex. Tips are appreciated.


End file.
